


Holey Stones

by CraftyDemonite



Category: Adventure Time
Genre: Alternate Universe, Friendship, Gen, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:34:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27112679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CraftyDemonite/pseuds/CraftyDemonite
Summary: At the end of the day, he could really only chalk it up to a game of Telephone that had gotten wildly out of hand. AU.
Relationships: Earl of Lemongab & Finn the Human, Earl of Lemongrab & Earl of Lemongrab 2
Comments: 1
Kudos: 10





	Holey Stones

**Author's Note:**

> LG1 = Limoncello “Cello”  
> LG2 = Meringue
> 
> This story takes place in an AU. Thank you.

Cello knew it was about that time whenever Finn would do things like pluck the book he was reading from his hands, sit down, and continue reading aloud where the earl had left off, doing goofy voices all the while in an attempt to make him laugh. Occasionally, he would try to sound like the earl himself, though his voice could never maintain the pitch for long without cracking.

It was also about that time whenever Meringue would begin making a nuisance of himself even more so than usual. He would try and distract his elder brother from work with food and drink or cling to him as fervently as a leech. Sometimes he went so far as to catch Cello off balance and drag him down, insisting they take a nap right then and there, even if that meant sleeping on the kitchen floor or beneath a doorway between a room and a hallway.

“That time” being when his brother and Finn became restless. In need of being taken out to play rather than work on projects or go on missions.

Cello justified their outings to himself in a lot of ways: maintaining morale was important, that spending time together would strengthen the bonds between friends and family, or - and he would never say it out loud - Cello had been feeling antsy to go somewhere as well, just to get away from everything for a bit.

On this trip, Cello brought the three of them to a small stream, no deeper than knee height for his brother and Finn. He had chosen this place not only because the water was cool and the day was muggy and uncomfortably hot, but also because its bottom was lined with a plethora of small, colorful stones and minerals, making it look very much like a rainbow had been laid out just beneath the running waters. Meringue enjoyed finding pretty things to decorate their living space with. Finn liked interesting things that he could touch and hold. It only made sense to bring them here.

They stripped down to their undershirts, kicking off their shoes and rolling up their pant legs. Finn dashed into the water immediately afterwards, splashing wildly and soaking himself in moments with Meringue following on his heels to try and squirt water into the boy’s face. Cello waited on the grass for their tomfoolery to end, standing just far enough away that their attempts to splash him as well were futile. He had remained safe and dry at least until Finn remembered the bucket they had brought with them, chased the earl down after filling it, and threw the entire payload of water into his face. Cello held the boy upside down by the ankles until he apologized for that.

And then Finn and Meringue got to exploring, reaching into the water up to their elbows to snatch up a rock, marveling at the colors and the patterns. Finn showed both lemon brothers his finds, even though he sometimes identified their colors wrong due to him being a bit color-blind. Cello only joined the two of them briefly in their search, picking up bits of pyrite and glittering quartzes for Finn and turquoise for his brother and then retiring to sit on the bank and soak his feet. He was more than happy to clarify the types of stones they were finding whenever Meringue or Finn wandered over to ask and detailed a little about what made them the way they were.

He made the mistake of telling Finn that banded stones were sometimes thought of as good luck charms to place wishes upon and the boy had immediately made it his duty to find and collect all of them from the stream. Cello scolded him with “We cannot take _every single one_ back with us!” whenever he would bring more over, even though the earl always placed his found treasures into their increasingly laden bucket.

Eventually, as the stones piled up and reached the top rim, Cello gave his brother and Finn a challenge; a game to play.

“Bring me the stone that is _my_ _favorite_. I will not tell you which. See if you can puzzle it out.”

It was a fair game, not even Meringue knew the answer for Cello had never told him. He found it very amusing to watch Finn stack up as many rocks in his arms as he could hold in a desperate bid to win, even if the only prize to be sought was Cello’s pride in him. Meringue was slower, more thoughtful, picking up a stone or two and casting them aside when he deemed them unsuitable.

Cello had already found one such example of his favorite stone earlier, though he spied several more of them within the stream. He’d placed it in his pocket when no one was looking so that if they could not figure it out, at least the answer wouldn’t eat away at them.

Finn made the first guess, dropping the rock into his palm.

Malachite. Beautiful in color. Lovely banding. But not his favorite.

Citrine. Met with a raspy huff of laughter and a question of if Meringue thought he was being funny.

Lapis lazuli. The stone of royalty. The deepest of blue. But no.

Turquoise. Meringue’s favorite. Holding value to Cello only in so much that it brought his brother happiness.

Pyrite. Fool’s gold. Do you think me a fool? Don’t look so concerned now, merely a bit of banter.

Petrified wood. Ah, I see you have spied a few of these specimens in my study. A curiosity to me, nothing more.

A clump of wet sand. Meringue, if you continue to fool around, you’re never going to figure it out. Followed by the threat that if either Finn or his brother tried to put sand down the back of his undershirt, he would dunk their heads in the water.

Jade. I’m surprised that you managed to find a piece, if only a small one. Would you like me to fashion you a necklace or perhaps a bracelet? I have no use for this nor any interest.

A shell of a large snail. Thinking outside the box are we, Finn? I did specify to bring me a stone, not whatever you can find in the stream.

Jasper. Bold and fiery. Like staring into the setting sun. Unfortunately, you’re further off base than before.

Not quite right. Try again, please. No, I will not give you a hint. Think of what you know of me.

And so it went. Onyx, marble, limestone, quartzes of every size and color, shale, sandstone, aventurine, endless striped agates, the most common of river rocks, and even a tiny fossil of some shelled creature from long, long ago.

No. Wrong. Nope. Not even close. Do you truly know me for who I am?

Cello could only grin as the guesses dwindled. Finn was finding duplicates of rocks he had already presented. Meringue was standing in the water, frowning to himself and probably growing frustrated at not intuitively knowing the answer. It was usually so easy for him to get into Cello’s head, to know what his brother was thinking and feeling and what he liked and disliked.

He asked them if they had given up and was met with fervent denial, but no other guesses came forth for several minutes. Again, he asked if they had given up. This time, silence was the only answer he received.

The game needed to be brought to a close anyways. The afternoon was wearing on and soon it would be dinnertime. So Cello took out the stone he had hidden in his pocket, holding it up to show them.

It was a simple thing; whitish-gray in color, shaped a bit like a rounded triangle, and large enough that it didn’t look too small in his hands. An offset hole penetrated straight through to the other side.

An adder stone. Hag stone. Faerie stone. Cello preferred its name of “holey stone” because it amused him.

Next, he asked them why they never guessed this particular rock. Meringue even picked one up at one point and dropped it back into the water rather quickly. They brought him shiny things, colorful things, smooth things, rough and bumpy things, even common things, but they had never brought him something so seemingly strange, yet easily overlooked.

Still no answer, just confused looks.

He explained how they were made; their holes often created by running water wearing away at a weak point for a very long time until it broke through. Sometimes instead of water, it was a small mollusk that bore into impenetrable rock to make its home within it. Tiny, insignificant things that still managed to bring about change to something seemingly unchangeable.

Such a concept was endlessly fascinating to him. That was why, despite being a bit drab and not the most interesting of things to run ones fingers over, holey stones were his favorite.

Cello then told them to go find their own holey stones, ones that they particularly liked, and to bring them to him. It took them a little while because holey stones weren’t that common in this stream, but there were still enough to provide a good selection to choose from.

Finn brought him a white, oblong stone with four clustered holes of varying sizes. Meringue brought him a gray stone with two holes, one of which was nearly heart-shaped. Cello took both of their stones home with him, tied and braided cords about them to turn them into pendants, and gave them back. A small token of his appreciation for both of them.

Meringue kept his holey stone close, but that was to be expected. He treasured the gifts Cello gave him for they were usually rare and made up of something fleeting and not as materialistic; mostly quiet moments shared between them and the odd gesture of affection when Cello could muster up the nerve to openly express such things. It was amusing to take note of how Meringue’s holey stone moved about their home. Sometimes it lay on a nightstand or an end table. Sometimes Meringue wore it on his person. Sometimes it could be seen hanging on a peg or next to the hanging pots in the kitchen.

What Cello hadn’t quite expected was to catch sight of Finn clutching his stone, its blue cord hanging between his fingers, before shoving it back into his rucksack and setting foot into danger once more. It was nice to see he still had it, but his actions were confusing. It was as if he was trying to draw some power from it.

A silly thing to do. It _was_ only a rock after all.

The last thing Cello expected was for word to spread like a game of telephone. For others to start looking to him to fashion them holey stone pendants as though he could bless them with good fortune.

It started mere days later when Queen Marceline appeared at his window late into the night. She had heard about the holey stones and wanted to go and see some for herself, though she asked to do so sheepishly and not quite looking him in the eye. He didn’t mind, he was awake anyways, and took her, not to the stream, but to a rocky beach where there were hundreds of them scattered about.

Queen Marceline was very quiet as she sifted through them, listening intently when he told her how they came about, before admitting that she wanted take one with her. She asked him if it was okay and he said it was fine as long as she took one that meant something to her, even if she didn’t understand why. He would make it into pendant like he had for his brother and Finn before her. She had agonized over the decision for a long time before choosing a stone that was deep gray and with so many holes through it that it resembled Swiss cheese. He looped colorful yarn through some of the holes while making her pendant, feeling as though she needed the reminder of how some of those empty spaces had been filled.

He was concerned when mother princess brought him her holey stone after barging into his study in the middle of his work. It was similar to the one he had collected and made into a pendant for himself, but hers was far too perfect; an immaculate circle with a single hole exactly centered in its face and the mineral a cheery blue rather than the normal gray or white it should have been. He asked her if she had made it that way on purpose, smoothed out and shaped a rock she liked and bored a hole in it with her gadgets and machines, and she proudly said yes.

He gave it back to her, refusing to make a pendant out of something so false. Told her to find a _real_ holey stone, one created from time and patience and not some pebble forced to become something it was never meant to be. It had taken another week of her presenting him with fake holey stones, trying to convince him of how much better their aesthetics were and how things sometimes just had to be helped along for their own good, before acquiescing and bringing him a true holey stone that looked as if she had chosen it in a rush and didn’t hold much value in. He tied and braided a bright red cord around it anyways, leaving its face as bare as possible, and hoped that in time she would better understand.

Even the dog brought him a holey stone, though with Finn as the mediator between him and Cello. The earl had wondered why the dog had wished to have a pendant as well, but perhaps Finn had convinced him or made him feel left out for not having his own like his adopted brother did. The stone he brought was wonky and lopsided and suited the dog quite well. Cello took care to make the cord one that could be cinched closed or loosened at will so the dog wouldn’t break it with his transformations.

And so it continued on. Candy citizens and banana guards approached him in groups of twos and threes - likely to bolster their courage - with holey stones to be made into pendants. Small packages came in the mail from people of neighboring kingdoms bearing even more holey stones that Cello quickly sent back upon their transformation into pendants. It wasn’t until he found himself at his dining table sitting across from the princess of flames herself, a cup of tea in front of her - it only seemed polite to offer, even if she wouldn’t partake - and a blackened holey stone placed on the table between them that he couldn’t help but ask why. It was easy to tie a bit of string through one of the holes. Anyone could do it. Why _him_ of all people?

She hummed in thought, resting her chin in one hand and placing her elbow on the table and scorching a black mark into the wood. “You really haven’t heard, huh? They say your pendants make things change! Everyone has something they want to make different, you know?”

Cello nearly choked on his tea. “They cannot do _that!_ I do not have magic. I cannot make it so. They’re just _rocks!”_

“Maybe it’s not so much what your pendants can do or can’t do,” she explained, spinning her cup around on its saucer, “But having them makes people feel like _they_ can go out and make something happen. It’s encouraging.”

So they were more of a charm? Cello supposed he could understand that. After all, weren’t his spectacles something of a charm to him? Something he wore to stave off the parts of himself he’d rather not show the world even if they were merely plastic and glass and nothing so fantastical as a magical object?

He set his cup down and leveled her with a serious gaze. “And you have something you wish to change as well?”

She looked up at him with eyes made of coals and her hair crackling. “Well, yeah. Don’t you?”

He chose not to answer that question. Instead, he told her that a normal cord would not do for her and led her to his workshop. The princess of flames hovered around his shoulders whilst sparking excitedly and making the room uncomfortably warm as he affixed a thin metal chain to her holey stone and wished her luck on her endeavors as he gave it to her.

After she thanked him and left, Cello pondered her words for a long time. He pondered them for the rest of the afternoon. He pondered them throughout the evening. He pondered them well into the night as his mind refused to let the matter go even though all he wanted was to sleep. Meringue complained about his restlessness and how he was keeping them both awake with his tossing and turning.

“Everyone is just being silly. What are you going to do? Make a pendant for _every single_ person in Ooo just because _they_ think it is magic?” Meringue was already bordering on being fed up with the whole affair. He thought the pendants were cute and that other people wanting their own was adorable until creating them began to eat up more and more of Cello’s time due to the sheer volume of the requests.

“No, not _everyone,”_ Cello assured him, “But I do not see the harm in making one for those that truly need it. It gives them hope.”

His brother rolled his eyes as well as rolled over to face away from him and bundled up sulkily in the blankets. “So what, are you the glob of holey stones now?”

Cello scoffed. “No, certainly not a glob. More of a… Steward. A warden of change.”

Meringue laughed and accused him of collecting titles and responsibilities in the same way a bird collected twigs for its nest. He wasn’t entirely wrong, but at least the ridiculous comparison put his brother in a better mood.

“What’s next then?” he asked, his tone light and teasing and no longer clipped and harsh, “Announcing your great powers to the world perhaps?”

“Nothing so grandiose. I will merely do as the people do,” Cello told him, “I will believe.”

And Cello did believe, for believing was easy, especially if the thing he was believing in was himself. He may not have carried any semblance of magic within him, but what he did possess was a sharp mind and a flair for the dramatic and theatrical. If it was his duty to ensure people believed in the efficacy of his pendants – or rather, ensured that they believed in _themselves_ \- then he would _make_ them cast aside all doubt and _believe._

He started by creating a few rules, just enough to give the process an air of mystery and seem as though it were something sacred. No more requests by mail. No coming to him in packs. Just a single person carrying a single holey stone they had chosen for themselves for a reason they might not have understood to be ushered into his study and to sit before the earl as he peered at them over his desk with his hands loosely laced together in front of him.

He would ask them two questions. Simple, but meaningful questions.

“Is there something in your life you wish to make different?”

Upon the affirmative, he would continue with the second.

“Are you quite certain? There is no guarantee that things will change for the better or change in the way that you had hoped.”

Most went ahead without a second thought and confirmed that, yes, this is what they wanted, consequences be damned, but for others, it gave them pause. They would go quiet for a time, seeming to be thinking very hard and then, sometimes, they would speak and tell him of their troubles: My friends are mad at me, there’s this one person I like, my spouse said this or that, things aren’t turning out the way I thought they would, I’m lost, I’m confused, I’m scared, I want someone else to change, I want to change something about _myself_.

Cello didn’t mind as he was very familiar with painful and upsetting things, and by the time they were done pouring their hearts out, he would be just about finished weaving the cords of their pendant together. At that point, they would always try to apologize and give the excuse that they felt they no longer needed a pendant, but he would press it into their hands regardless, send them on their way while wishing them luck going forward, and await the next guest to call upon him.

But as time went on, the requests became more and more infrequent, going from a dozen or so every day to maybe eight or nine every other day to just a few every week or two weeks maybe, if he was lucky. The novelty of the pendants was wearing off or maybe people did not feel so strongly about obtaining one if it took so much of their time and personal effort. Cello was grateful to once again have his free time to dedicate to himself and to his brother if a little saddened by the loss of something he had genuinely grown to enjoy, but nothing lasted forever after all. It made the rare person or two who showed up on his doorstep months later after hearing whispers of the services he offered all the more delightful and life returned to something like normalcy.

But normalcy and peace never seemed to last quite long enough, being that it was such a fickle thing in Ooo. It was only a matter of time before some menace rose up to endanger their way of life and Cello was nothing if not loyal to the princess and understanding of her concerns of threats to the kingdom and to the citizens. He couldn’t rightly deny her requests for aid when everyone else had said “yes” and that was how he found himself once again at the front lines beside his brother and teammates, prepared to defend those who could not defend themselves.

Finn was, of course, present and accounted for as expected, bouncing on his heels in anticipation with his holey stone hanging a little awkwardly around his neck from where it had caught on the lining of his bear cap. It earned the boy a small, but cheeky grin from Cello alongside a teasing comment that died in his throat when he spied someone else with a necklace made of red and orange cords weaved and looped and tied in familiar patterns carrying a pale gray holey stone in its embrace.

And suddenly he noticed that they were _everywhere._ Hanging from necks, wrapped around wrists, clipped to hilts and crossguards of weapons, used to tie back Queen Marceline’s flowing, black hair, and woven into threadbare holes of what must have been a beloved and well-worn coat or scarf or cloak.

Cello struggled to identify whatever it was he was feeling upon realizing so many had reached for their pendants along with their weapons. Elated? Humbled? Accomplished? Or perhaps a mixture of a dozen different emotions that were quite overwhelming now that he was thinking about it. He decided to settle on the feeling of unity, of being a small and insignificant piece of a greater whole, just as they all were. The pendants were merely a symbol of that unity. A physical mark of their resolve to bring about change and set things right together, like flowing water slowly and tenaciously chipping away at a boulder.

\----------------------------------

Fin.


End file.
